Sometimes I cry out for help. Only to the select few of people who wold be able to keep up with how my brain works. It never helps because it only matters in the moment. Once it passes, I’m back to normal. Everythings repressed, and I hate that.
Sometimes I cry out for help. Only to the select few of people who wold be able to keep up with how my brain works. It never helps because it only matters in the moment. Once it passes, I’m back to normal. Everythings repressed, and I hate that.